


Putting Fire Out

by ReenactingTheCultOfDionysus



Category: The Medoran Chronicles - Lynette Noni
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29937789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReenactingTheCultOfDionysus/pseuds/ReenactingTheCultOfDionysus
Summary: "It was the summer where there was a lot to be angry about. That anger was burning, and it never seemed to go out. And Bear was so sick of being angry."Oneshot. Bear Ronnigan's perspective of the first summer after the war against Aven Dalmarta. Not entirely canonical, mostly a lot of broody internal dialogue with some Bear/Declan angst. Content warnings for swearing and mentions of alcoholism, PTSD, other mental health related issues, eating disorders, mentions of smut, violence and war.
Relationships: Barnold "Bear" Ronnigan/Declan Stirling, Delucia Cavelle/Jordan Sparker, Kaiden James/Alexandra Jennings
Kudos: 3





	Putting Fire Out

**Author's Note:**

> It's been about two years since I finished writing any fanfiction, let alone posted it up somewhere. This is my first time in a hot minute posting on AO3 so I'm a little rusty in terms of writing and formatting. 
> 
> Lynette Noni's writing conference last Tuesday made me nostalgic for the Medoran universe and characters, so here we are. Disclaimer that I don't own these characters or world, and there are some tangents that aren't found in the canon. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Anger had never been a quality that came easily to Bear Ronnigan — at least, until the summer after Aven. After everything. 

Life had become inescapable. It was the summer when Bear didn’t get to spend it with his dad, for the first time in his life, and the house felt too quiet and his thoughts too loud and bright for the rest of him because of it. It was the summer when Evie cried more than she should have, and Gammy kept to herself a little too much, and his mum would stare blankly into the distance for moments that stretched out too long. It was the summer when his brothers started to drop eye contact with him, started to miss his Com calls, and Jordan started to get a little too fond of alcohol for comfort, staying out, his absences unexplained, until the ungodly hours of early morning. It was the summer when the news articles were a constant plague of tragedy and conspiracy, and instead of kicking back from Academy life, they all had to pitch in with the reconstruction of a kingdom. It was the summer when Alex folded in on herself, eaten inside out by blackened grief and guilt, and the most any of them could do was keep her away from any substances with sedative properties, because the last thing she needed was an addiction. It was the summer when D.C. didn’t eat for days at a time, thanks to her constant anxiety over Jordan, over Alex, over the state of the kingdom that was her birthright. It was the summer when Kaiden refused to detach himself from his girlfriend’s side, destroying himself in the process of salvaging her, and it was like watching somebody trying to contain a supernova. It was the summer when Declan would disappear like Jordan did, only he’d return, bleeding and bruising, fists still wrapped from hand to hand combat and pockets heavy with cash — a few weeks into this, he’d confess to Bear he was sneaking off to participate in gambled streetfighting. 

It was the summer where there was a lot to be angry about. That anger was burning, and it never seemed to go out. And Bear was so sick of being angry.

He’d promised himself tonight was the exception, tonight he’d set aside the anger and the grief and the ghosts. He’d promised himself that, because tonight was the seventh of July, and the seventh of July was Alex’s birthday. Alex’s eighteenth birthday. Bear tried not to think too much about what that age and that milestone meant, aside from the rudimentary legalities that entailed it, because it meant that Alex hadn’t just survived a war, hadn’t just survived Aven, she had been weaponized and paraded and scrutinised and then traumatised beyond recognition of her past self. She had been a fucking child soldier, and it made him so angry he couldn’t breathe. 

Hadn’t they all been? Hadn’t they all just been kids?

And here they all were. All six of them. No more because nobody else could be truly entrusted, successfully interwoven, into the group, because the memory of Vardaesia solidified them as an unmatched, unbreakable unit; and no less because by some miracle, some trick of fate, they’d all made it this far. It wasn’t much of a milestone birthday celebration; Alex had strictly requested the last thing she wanted was a party, overwhelming and overexaggerated. The solution was an understated bonfire, on the beach situated below the coastal property belonging to Kaiden’s family, and everyone was making an effort: Jordan wasn’t drinking, D.C. had eaten more than basic sustainment, Declan was letting his hands rest for the night, Kaiden wasn’t deluding himself that picking up Alex’s shrapnel was utterly beneficial for both of them, and Alex had secured a reasonable amount of undisturbed sleep. Everyone was making an effort, and so Bear was trying to be less angry. 

Together, as a group, they constructed the bonfire, feeding it scraps of paper and kindling, bickering and bantering until the licking flames were properly caught. Jordan chased D.C. across the damp, clumpy sand with the intent of tangling seaweed in her hair, her shrieking threats and obscenities at him, and the rest of them had stood watching, hooting with laughter and calling obnoxious suggestions. They’d all stripped down to their swimmers and waded into the surf at one point, and they’d stayed in the water until the sun set, chasing and wrestling and contesting. Once the sky was dark and the sea lost its appeal they sat around the bonfire, eating food with their hands, conversing freely and jesting at one another. 

Hours had since passed, and slowly they began to section off, as is completely expected when there are two couples in a dynamic of six. Bear observes, unreacting, when Jordan and D.C. are the first to peel away, hand in hand, scouting for a location a little more private. They all know exactly what those two are up to. Alex and Kaiden are next to excuse themselves, but remain in sight along the shoreline, sitting on the sand together, facing the sea. PDA seems less of a priority for them — pressed hip to hip, hands resting idly on each other, obviously engaged in private conversation. 

That leaves Bear still at the bonfire, with Declan. He’s still upright, comfortably, but at some point Declan has dragged over one of the logs to recline against. It’s not that he feels unnerved picking up a conversation with Declan; whenever this kind of natural division happens, they’re the ones stuck together. It’s been an ongoing pattern since Vardaesia. 

It doesn’t help that he likes being around Declan more than he should. His chest doesn’t feel as tight and his stomach is more prone to flip flops rather than vengeful twists. The words fall out of his mouth faster than his brain can keep up. The anger doesn’t surface as much. He feels more like himself. Bear’s not stupid. He values emotional intelligence as well as academic; he sure as hell knows what’s going on in his head when it comes to Declan Stirling. 

And he utterly hates himself for it. 

Declan puts his hands back behind his head and leans back. His dark skin reflects the passive tongues of the bonfire, honey-golden light pulsing and flickering, dancing on his cheekbones, the defined curve of his jaw, the proud slope of his nose. Bear notes a healing cut on the corner of his mouth and immediately refuses to linger on the matter. “It’s been ages since we’ve all been together like this. I missed it.” 

He’s made a point of avoiding Declan. It’s easier to be in denial about everything, especially considering the last time they were left alone together, on this very same beach if memory serves correctly. They haven’t spoken to one another since the morning after it happened. 

But avoiding Declan also means avoiding Kaiden, because they’ve been a package deal for as long as almost everyone’s known them, and that of course means also not seeing Alex. Really, the only people he’s actively sought out are D.C. and Jordan. 

Of course, Bear says none of this. “It went better than I thought it would,” he admits instead.

Declan throws him a look Bear doesn’t entirely catch the expression behind. “I would have thought you’d be more optimistic.”

“It’s not exactly coming easily these days,” Bear replies dryly after a long pause. 

“No prizes for guessing why.” Declan says, and a heavy pause follows this. Their silences used to be more companionable, more comfortable, but that’s gone now. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

The offer to open up feels like a punch to the gut. That’s why he’d gotten close with Declan to begin with; he’d taken him up on the offers to talk about it, both before and after his dad died. But his mouth betrays his mind and the words fall out. “I just always feel so angry. Like it’s pumping through my veins instead of blood.” 

Declan cocks an eyebrow. “Why?”

It’s so simple, so blunt. The words tumble out, unsolicited, again: “It’s more where to begin. I’m still getting the dreams about watching my dad die, and then I wake up, and Jordan’s passed out drunk on the bed next to me and the house is like a funeral parlour. The kingdom is using us as a labour force for reconstruction because everyone else is either dead or still recovering from being in Aven’s labour camps. D.C. told me the other day she’s gone down three clothing sizes — three, and she’s been like this for barely two months. I haven’t had a proper conversation with Johnny or Blake in over a month, and I know it’s me, not them. Alex was dragged into a war she never wanted and stuck up on a pedestal, and she’s never going to be the same person because of it, and Kaiden’s convinced himself he’s helping both of them by dealing with the fallout. And you’re out risking your neck not because you need the money but because you want the adrenaline hit.” He quickly shuts up after the last one, less out of regret and more out of self preservation. He can’t afford to flay himself any more to Declan. 

Now he remembers some more anger. He’s also angry at himself. He’s angry he allowed himself to become dependent on somebody who prompted opening up and solidarity and flirtation, only for them to back off when he got a little too close. 

The wind picks up, salty and cold as it skates up off the sea and rushes towards them. Bear’s suddenly grateful for the bonfire, and further down the beach, he notes Kaiden’s silhouette pulling Alex’s closer. He wonders where Jordan and D.C. have gone, but he’s not particularly inclined to get up and pursue the matter. 

Finally Declan responds to everything Bear has just unspooled, “I can’t say any of that isn’t justified to be angry about.” He doesn’t even try to defend himself about street fighting, Bear notes. 

“I know,” Bear says, because there might be justice in war, but there is always justice in being angry about war. “I’m — I’m just so sick of always feeling so angry.” 

“It’s not exactly something that comes naturally to you.” Declan says, and his voice is flinty with absolute certainty. “You’ve always been an optimistic person.” 

“There’s not a whole lot I can put a positive spin on these days,” Bear reminded him, his words moderated. 

“We’re all here, aren’t we? Despite the clusterfuck of everything else going on?” Declan offers. 

Bear watches the bonfire for a long moment, slightly hypnotised by the way the flames seem to cough and sputter and seize up. Fire is wild, and unpredictable, and destructive; it is like his anger. And he doesn’t know when — if — it will be extinguished. “It’s Alex’s birthday, of course we are. Despite everything.” He tries not to sound too bitter at the end and fails miserably.

Declan arches an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Did you really tell me everything that’s bothering you?”

The anger seizes him in that moment, ignited and spluttering. Bear throws out the words before he can even reconsider them. “So now you’ve decided you care about my wellbeing?” 

Declan’s eyes glaze over and his face slackens until he’s lost all expression. “It’s two completely different things, B.”

“It’s not,” Bear snaps back at him, ignoring the fact it’s the first time since that night happened that Declan’s referred to him as B. “You can’t even see your own hypocrisy. You can’t come hounding after me to act as my emotional support, after you told me you weren’t interested in relationships because you didn’t want any more attachments, after we’d slept together.” 

And there it was, those words, the alcohol-blurred memories they evoked, finally thrown out into the open, into the air between them.

They held one each other’s gaze for a long, tense, awful moment. The self hatred returned with a vengeance.

“It was a mistake,” Declan says finally, quietly. “We were drunk and stupid. It meant nothing.” 

“It meant something to me.” Bear retorts. Some distant part of him wonders if he’s about to lose it completely, after weeks of internalising all of the anger that’s been stewing up inside him. “You know that was my first time.” 

It hurts to say it, and it hurts even more knowing how true it is. 

He’s spoken to Alex about some of it. Whilst wanting to kiss boys instead of girls isn’t blissfully streamlined in Medora, it’s a lot better than most countries in Freya. There are the laws, and decent representation in media, and it’s highlighted in the schooling system, and all of it has gone on a lot longer than the last fifty years, like in the more progressive parts of Freya. But it’s not perfect. Medora has always been a monarchy; there’s always existed generational wealth and power, and generational wealth and power doesn’t exist without heirs to pass it down, and not every couple can naturally produce biological heirs. The residing stigma that you find, derives from that archaic practise.

Declan drops his gaze, lowering onyx eyes towards the fire. “I’m sorry, Bear,” he says, in a low but clear voice. “You deserved better than that.” 

Bear sucks in a shaking breath. “It’s not just that,” he says, quickly and viciously. “It’s that I wanted it to be you. But it turns out you’re just an overconfident adrenaline junkie who thinks exclusively with his dick, and I hate myself for it.” 

But Declan never responds, because Kaiden and Alex make an appearance, clearly chased back to the bonfire thanks to the frisky coastal winds. Alex plonks herself into the sand beside him, close enough so her lithe, compact frame brushes against him. Bear notices her eyes are red. Kaiden doesn’t move to follow her, instead making some half assed comment about needing more firewood, and Declan takes the cue to follow him into the scrub behind them. Once her boyfriend is out of earshot and eyesight, Alex’s head falls onto his shoulder. She’s always been one to freely demonstrate physical contact, but less so these days. Somewhat because she’s got a boyfriend, even though Kaiden doesn’t bat an eye at his girlfriend openly having firm friendships with other blokes, but moreover because she’s not a big fan of unfamiliar people these days, and unwanted touches are shuffled into that category. 

Instead, he rests his head against hers. “Hey.”

“Hey back.” Her voice doesn’t sound any different from usual, even though her eyes give her emotions away. 

“I was going to ask if you had a good birthday,” Bear says hesitantly.

“It started out that way,” Alex affirms, quietly, neutrally. He notices she’s swaddled in Kaiden’s jacket, a black corduroy one with sheepskin lining. When it’s just the six of them, the Vardaesia dynamic, and not just Kaiden or D.C., she’s more willing to be vulnerable in front of the others. “Now I’m not so sure.” 

He’s not a territorial person, but the sense of brotherly protectiveness is quick to surface around Alex, just as quickly as the ever present anger. “Did something happen?” 

“Yeah.” Alex pushes back the oversized sleeves of her boyfriend’s loaned jacket and hooks a finger in one of the many bracelets adorning her wrist, a plaited leather one with sea glass beads. He recognises it because he was there when she bought it, early on in fourth year, when the four of them had gone to an artisan market together but neither had been inclined to third- and fourth- wheel awkwardly with D.C. and Jordan. He watches her fidget with the bracelet. “Kaiden told me he loved me. It’s the first time he said it.” 

Like it had never been blatantly obvious to begin with, but of course Bear doesn’t voice this. Nobody else warranted that level of unashamed attention and affection from Kaiden James as effortlessly as Alex did. Mostly because there’s a somberiety to her voice that suggests she didn’t say it back. “Isn’t that a good thing?” 

“I don’t know,” Alex responds hollowly. She lifts her head back up from his shoulder. “I didn’t say it back to him. I couldn’t say it back. He said he didn’t expect me to reciprocate, he just wanted me to know, but nobody really says that without expecting you to say it back to them, right?” 

Bear shuffles himself more upright. “Why didn’t you say it back?” 

“I don’t think I deserved it in the first place.” She fidgets again, this time with one of the rings on her index finger. “I can’t even tell if I’m in love with him or I’m so pathetically dependent on the person who knows just about everything about me, and my emotions are so out of control these days I’m mistaking one for the other. And I know Kaiden’s not the same anymore because of me. Either way, that’s why we came back up to the bonfire, mostly because I wanted to get that off my chest but of course I’m not saying it to him. It’s the last thing he needs to hear.” She drags a distressed hand through her hair. “Sorry for interrupting your conversation with Declan.”

“It was pretty good timing actually,” Bear admits, “considering I’d just called him an overconfident adrenaline junkie who thinks exclusively with his dick.”

Alex makes a sound of surprise. “In all seriousness?” 

“Every last syllable,” Bear confirms, and the anger, the self hatred, comes flooding back. He hasn’t told anyone about what happened with Declan, not even Jordan, but the words and the memories claw up his throat and he can’t stop himself. “Do you remember when we were all drinking together last time?” 

Alex shakes her head, looking bemused for a fleeting moment. “Not much of it. I remember Dix giving me a lap dance to make Jordan jealous. Why?” 

“Well,” says Bear, and it all comes falling out at once. “One moment, Kaiden left me and Declan alone in a room with a bottle of bourbon. The next moment, the bottle is emptied and we’re drunk shagging each other senseless. When I wake up the next morning, he’s putting his clothes back on, and he looks over at me, and that’s when he reminded me I was no different to any of the other guys he’s hooked up with, and not to take it personally because it was a drunken mistake.” He realises his throat is too tight, and his words too brittle, and his chest is closing in on itself. “It was my first time with a guy and all it was, was a drunken mistake. And I haven’t stopped thinking about it.” 

He realises Alex is gaping at him. “Oh, Bear,” she says, clearly lost for words. 

“Sorry for dumping that,” he says, suddenly guilty, because not only because he knows offloading onto somebody who doesn’t have the best mental health is a dick move, but he knows she’s also on good terms with Declan.

“No, it’s okay,” she says, drawing her knees up to her chest. “That’s — I can’t believe he’d do that to you. Kaiden and I were convinced it was only a matter of time.” 

Bear lets himself fall back until his back hits the cool sand and he’s looking up at the sky, the night yawning and endless, the heavens billowing, the stars onlooking. “It’s just knowing that after everything, everything he did and said, he still didn’t want me. And that’s what hurts the most.” 

“I can only imagine.” Alex’s voice brims with genuine sympathy. She lies back on the sand next to him, not touching but still close. She raises a hand and drags it through the night sky, tracing the constellations with her fingertips. 

“The stars are watching,” he tells her.

“They always are,” Alex says back. She is almost reverent. Then she says, “I could stargaze all night if you let me. I usually climb out onto the roof or balcony if the nightmares are bad, and I just lie there, watching them until the sun comes up. Sometimes, if Kaiden’s with me, he’ll point out the constellations, because yours are different to the ones in Freya.”

Bear nods. “I used to love astronomy when I was a kid,” he recounts. “I had a telescope set up in the highest window and everything, and I knew all the constellations and planets by heart. I was just as much of a physics nut as I am with Chem. But then I stopped.” 

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” He pauses. “It makes you realise how small you are. It makes you feel alone, too, looking out at all these stars and realising your insignificance compared to the universe.”

Alex shifts in the sand. There’s a quiet, zipping nose coming from her direction; Bear cranes his neck, noticing she’s playing with a necklace, dragging the pendant up and down the chain absently. “Do you still feel like that these days?” 

His lips are numb when he replies: “No. Mostly I just feel anger these days.” 

“But you’re not an angry person,” Alex tells him.

It’s the second time that night he’s been told that. Bear looks up at the stars, lets himself become hypnotised by them. “I guess it’s just a testament to how fucked up everything has become.” 

“I guess it has,” Alex admits. They don’t say anything more, but remain lying in the sand, the bonfire crackling at their feet, watching the stars above their heads. Bear closes his eyes and sucks in the sea air, and just for a moment, lets himself forget all the reasons why he’s so angry to begin with.

They’ll be okay. They’ll all make it out to the other side. They always do.

**Author's Note:**

> It's not exactly a happy ending, but I did want to end on a wholesome note for this fic. Vardaesia's glossy ending never really sat well with me, considering its outcomes, so I wanted to write about that as well as some Bear/Declan.
> 
> If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading and any feedback or comments would be appreciated!


End file.
